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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696236">Say My Name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobachka/pseuds/sobachka'>sobachka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zoyalai Works [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>CIA AU, F/M, Idk what to tag this with, Killing, The whole gang is here, and nikolai has a lousiana accent, bc i make the rules, but its zoyalai so, but zoya is british, its agents au, so there's violence, stuff like that, this might end up being long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobachka/pseuds/sobachka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikolai works for the CIA. Zoya works for the British Intelligence. And somehow this mission brings them together, and it's in each of their best interests that the other remains alive.<br/>Or, the Rogue Nation au no one asked for</p><div class="center">
  <p>---</p>
</div><i>She raced to the rail overlooking the Grand staircase, which was filled with people, her heart plummeting when a security officer calmly tells them that no one is to leave the premises.<br/>She was stuck.<br/>"I have a way out," Zoya froze at the sound of his voice. She recognized it instantly, the hint of a southern drawl tinging his words. She turned, and there he stood, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief, and perfectly composed despite the fact that she'd watched him battle for his life only moments before. The man was impossible.<br/>A smirk curled Lantsov's lips. "Interested?"</i>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Kostyk/Genya Safin, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, Tamar Kir-Bataar/Nadia Zhabin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zoyalai Works [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Say My Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this idea has been in my head for AGES and I'm finally writing it !! I'm not sure how long it'll end up being, but I can promise I have a nice ending planned &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nikolai had never paid much attention to his biology lessons, but he was certain that at that moment, he could have named at least fifty-three muscle. Each of them screaming in pain. </p><p>He tried to lift his head to get a better view of the room he’d been placed in- <em>fifty-four</em>, his mind informed him grimly as the back of his neck began to ache. </p><p>His training came up instantly, the routine overtaking his brain. He scanned the room. Small. Metal. Door? Locked. Definitely a cell. He tilted his head up, trying to see what bound his arms up. Chains dug into his wrists, attached to the wall behind him. Nikolai sighed, leaning his head against the wall, his brain foggy- how had he gotten there?</p><p>He shut his eyes, allowing memories to flash in his mind- a record shop, he’d gone in after dark, the place was empty save a pretty girl at the register with hair like fallen snow. Genya had given her a name, but he failed to remember her as anything but an undercover agent who had information for him. He did recall wanting to invite her for a drink, once he’d claimed the case Genya had left for him. </p><p>There had been a glass room. A record player. <em> No </em> , his brain said, an explosion resonating in his memory, a <em> hacked </em> record player. Silky voice dripping out of the speakers, a man who knew Nikolai, not by code name or undercover occupation. No, this man <em> knew </em>him.</p><p>Smoke filling the air. He’d felt light-headed. The girl had been there, frozen in place, a gun was pressed to her head.</p><p>He thought he remembered a face, looming among the shadows, pale and drawn with ink-black hair. Two words.</p><p>
  <em> The Starless. </em>
</p><p>Somehow the memory made his pain triple, and he doubled over, pulling at his chains and gasping for air. He shook his head, blinking. The calculating part of his brain tried to update Nikolai on his surroundings. He had been in London, but this room didn’t feel like a British torture chamber- having been in one himself, Nikolai was certain he could recognize the differences. Had they left England? Or was he in someplace more secure?</p><p><em> Now that’s offensive </em>, Nikolai considered. Had he not been large enough of a threat before?</p><p>The thing that had struck him, even in that record shop in London, when he had ascertained that he was under attack, was that the silky voice in the speakers had spoken American English. </p><p>The door flew open, and Nikolai let a single eye crack open. He had begun to wish they’d left on his shirt to ward off the chill, but he quickly retracted those thoughts when he saw the person who entered the room.</p><p>A short woman with deep brown skin and raven black hair entered, her sharp blue eyes landing on Nikolai. She cocked a perfect brow at him, as though he should know better than to slump against the wall in his chains. It was a look that made him wish he’d broken out, if only to impress her.</p><p>She eyed him with something akin to disappointment, then shook her head, stalking to the other end of the room, where a small table sat. She lifted a small case, unlatched it, retrieved three small bottles full of a clear liquid from it, and set them aside. Every movement was precise, as though she’d already ascertained he would be watching. Which, of course, he was.</p><p>After she’d laid out some tools Nikolai had to guess would be his gift, she turned back to him. He got the distinct sense she was waiting for something, though from who, he couldn’t tell.</p><p>She approached him, scrutinizing Nikolai before speaking, and though her Russian was flawless, there was a slight edge to the words that gave away her English origins.</p><p>“What does he see in you, I wonder,” she muttered, more to herself.</p><p>Nikolai laughed, though it came out more like a wheeze. He managed a wink, “take off the cuffs and I’ll show you.”</p><p>She rolled her eyes, turning back to the table and discarding her coat, leaving her in just a tank top and jeans. Nikolai raised a brow but she was completely ignoring him now. He hadn’t noticed that she was in heels until she slipped them off, dropping them onto the table. <em> Not such a horrible way to die, after all </em>, Nikolai thought, as the woman gathered her hair into a tail and tied it off.</p><p>He considered saying something to her, if only to break the silence but decided against it. She slipped something into her pocket, but just as she turned back to him, intent in her stormy blue eyes, the door flew open again. Three large Russian men entered, pale blond hair tied at the napes of their necks, almost identical. Nikolai recognized them instantly. </p><p>These were the Brum brothers.</p><p>The very same ruthless killers the Triumvirate had been trying to track for decades. The funny thing was, they were all declared dead two years ago. An accident, he recalled, or a missing plane.</p><p>These also happened to be the very people featured in the file Genya’s snowy-haired informant had delivered to Nikolai, in the store that was a trap, that had been her doom. The one that had been blown to bits.</p><p>The one connecting them to The Starless cult.</p><p>The largest, and, Nikolai knew from research, the oldest, headed for the table, where the woman's set of knives still rested, gleaming in the dim room’s light. </p><p>“You may want to leave,” this from the second brother, who had come to stand very close to the woman, a small smirk curling his lips, “this is no place for a little girl.”</p><p>Nikolai noted the stiffness in her posture, and though it might come off as fear, he had the distinct suspicion it was nothing but hard-earned restraint from her end. She merely tossed her hair back and said, “you promised me a show.”</p><p><em> If nothing else, I’m stellar entertainment </em>, Nikolai thought, but his throat was too parched for speech, and the anticipation of more pain to add to his already aching muscles.</p><p>The man shrugged, making his way to his brother, and the selection of weapons laid before them. They weren’t watching the woman, and he suspected that in whatever organization they worked for, she had made a point of being underestimated. But why?</p><p>As if reading his thoughts, she caught his eye, then raised her hand as if to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, parting her fingers to reveal something metallic, glinting when it caught the light.</p><p>Nikolai frowned. The key?</p><p>She raised a brow at him as if she doubted that even with a key, he could make it out alive. Nikolai had a very sudden urge to prove her wrong. Then the brothers were turning back to him, the oldest coming to stand in front of Nikolai, an impressive knife held in one hand. His blue eyes were hungry.</p><p>Nikolai let a charming smile overtake his features, “Can I call you Brum One? Then the others can be Two and Three-”</p><p>His response was a well-aimed blow to his stomach, slamming Nikolai back against the wall. He groaned, wincing at the additional pain.</p><p>“I never mentioned,” Nikolai gasped out, “but those are some <em> really </em>nice shoes”</p><p>The man frowned, dropping his gaze to the plain black boots around his feet.</p><p>“Not you,” said Nikolai, “her.”</p><p>In the time it took for the man to turn his head back and face the woman, she had changed her stance and delivered a hard kick to his groin. He let out a howl, doubling over as the woman tossed the key over his bowed head to Nikolai. He caught it with ease.</p><p>The second brother was on her already, knife in hand, as Nikolai struggled to shove the key inside its lock. She ducked as he aimed for her face, grabbing his wrist and plunging the knife into his thigh. The second brother groaned, tearing the knife out and arching it downward. He missed by a hair's breadth.</p><p>A single cuff cracked open beneath his touch, clattering to the floor and startling the last of the Brums into action. The boy’s icy eyes locked on Nikolai and he barreled toward him, swinging a fist at his head. With a single hand still shackled to the wall, Nikolai pulled away, trying to duck before the collision, but the blow landed, striking him square in the jaw and snapping his head back. </p><p>Blood was trailing down Nikolai’s nose, which seemed to satisfy the Russian, who pulled back for a second hit- this time, Nikolai snatched the fallen chain, ducking behind the man’s arm and wrapping it around his throat. The Russian cried out as Nikolai forced him to his knees, pulling the chain tighter and watching the blood fill the boy’s face.</p><p>“Lantsov!” the woman’s voice rang out, forcing away his attention. She had a knife in her hand and both brothers looming over her. Nikolai swore, dropping the third boy and clicking the key into place before racing over to help, his legs sore but determined.</p><p>Nikolai tossed aside the chain, and instantly regretted it when he realized he was weaponless. The oldest was closer, and he kicked a leg out, aiming at the man’s knees. He groaned, legs collapsing beneath him. The second brother attacked the woman, and she ducked, then sliced at air. In a single moment, she’d thrown one leg over the man’s shoulder, wrapping the second around his neck so she was perched on his shoulders. Then she took the knife and plunged it into his neck. He crumpled to the floor and she stood over his body, looking unamused.</p><p>The first was still bleeding from a wound the woman had delivered- she tossed Nikolai the same knife, still slick with the other man’s blood, and he let it sink into the oldest Brum’s lower back, just between his vertebrae, cracking his spinal cord. The last Brum collapsed with a sound part groan, part gurgle.</p><p>Nikolai looked up, breathing heavily. He met the woman’s eyes.</p><p>“Incredible,” he managed</p><p>“Slow,” she snapped back.</p><p>Before he could say anything to defend himself, someone was pounding at the door, demanding to be let in.</p><p>“Follow me,” the girl said without preamble, this time her English accent marked her as British. London, if he had to guess.</p><p>“Yes, general,” Nikolai replied, tailing her as she turned heel and crossed the room, headed towards a set of bars he hadn’t noticed before that separated his own cell from what must have been a way out.</p><p>The pounding grew louder, but the woman kept her gaze locked ahead, slipping a key out of her pocket and sliding open the bars. She tilted her head, indicating that Nikolai should move forward. He did so without question, throwing a mock salute her way.</p><p>He was just about to allow the torrent of questions racing through his mind to slip free when the bars slammed shut behind him. He whipped his head back. The woman stood on the other side- her stormy blue eyes steady.</p><p>“What- what are you doing?” Nikolai said, gaze snapping from the key twisting in its lock to the woman still on the other side of the bars, to the outer door that seemed close to bursting open.</p><p>“I have to stay,” she said simply. </p><p>Nikolai gaped at her, “we just killed those men, you <em> cannot </em>stay here!”</p><p>She met his eyes, and there was something resolute in the way she watched him, as though she’d planned this to the last moment and he’d said all the wrong lines.</p><p>“No, You killed those men.” she said calmly, “I tried to stop you, but you got away.”</p><p>“Who are you?” Nikolai’s brows drew together, a mixture of confusion and surprise lacing his features. The trture chamber and load of people from various countries trying to kill him was old news, but a stormy eyed savior? That was new.</p><p>The girl nodded back at the door, “go, now.”</p><p>He didn’t need to be told twice. Nikolai turned heel and began racing down the hall, away from the strange girl and her stranger actions. A door burst open somewhere in the background, he heard her voice in Russian, trembling with something akin to terror.</p><p>He recalled thinking she’d worked to be underestimated among these people, and a small smile twitched at his lips.</p><p>Gunshots rang out as more men flooded the room, aiming at him through the bars, shouting profanities in Russian. Nikolai stumbled, evading one hit, then the next before turning the corner, his heart hammering in his chest.</p><p>Their voices faded as he followed the twists and turns of the hall. He winced. Nothing but him and the shadows, here.</p><p><em> Well </em> , he thought dizzily, stumbling as he pressed a hand to his side, <em> me, the shadows, and the bullet lodged in my abdomen </em>.</p><p>Perhaps he should not have stopped to speak with the woman, simply taken the opportunity and run, but even as his steps became more clumsy, his head swimming with the aches of a hundred different pains, Nikolai could not bring himself to regret it.</p><p><em> Genya is going to murder me </em>, he thought.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>There were no spas around, and Genya once again wished she’d gone to work at her mother’s instead of joining the Triumvirate- not for the first time. Her best agent- really, America's best agent- was missing. Had been for days. And the investigation the CIA Secretary was holding was becoming more and more intrusive, asking questions she couldn’t answer while sounding loyal to the right people.</p><p>David, bless him, had stood up for the Triumvirate in their last meeting. <em> Our methods may be unorthodox, but we only want what’s best for our country. What’s best for The United States </em>, his words echoed in her mind, sending a fresh well of emotion through her. When he was paying attention, her husband could really impress them.</p><p>As if reading her thoughts, the Secretary himself appeared beside Genya, light brows raised in amusement, eyes half-lidded. He seemed to retain the appearance of a drunk wherever he went, and then he spoke and one realized that he may not be drunk, but he was indeed an idiot.</p><p>“Miss Safin,” he greeted her, nodding his head once, “do you have a moment?”</p><p><em> Do I have a choice? </em> She wanted to say, but held back, “of course,” </p><p>“Is my brother around?”</p><p>She clenched her jaw at the way he said, ‘my brother’, as though Nikolai and he were close friends instead of mortal enemies. As if this entire investigation was not borne of his own jealousy towards his brother.</p><p>“No,” she said calmly, “I haven’t seen him.”</p><p>“Pity,” he said, “I wanted him to be here when I dropped the news.”</p><p>“News?” she inquired, stiffening already. Nothing that made him this smug could be good.</p><p>He turned his attention back to her, folding his hands behind his back. And had it been anyone else it may have been a regal gesture, but with Vasily, it merely emphasized his drooping stomach and tightened the buttons of his shirt. </p><p>“Ah yes. The Triumvirate has been officially shut down.”</p><p>Genya sucked in a breath, “but sir-”</p><p>“It’s really out of my hands,” he said, though she knew it wasn’t. Genya bit her cheek against everything she wanted to say.</p><p>They had been running an investigation on a cult that had been wreaking havoc inside and out of America. It was for investigations like this, not strictly within the rules and regulations binding the CIA that the Triumvirate Unit had been created, initially. Shutting them down meant The Starless cult if they were really the ones behind all this, would get away. It meant they were no longer safe. It meant she no longer had a high position in the government.</p><p>And she <em> still </em>hadn’t heard from Nikolai.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Nikolai hated Moscow. He hated every aspect of it- the way winter seemed to never leave, the way the people always cast him glares as if they knew he did not belong, and mostly, he hated their payphones. As he pressed one of their thick black plastic phones, slick with rain and some other liquid he didn’t wish to identify, closer to his ear, he wished they’d accepted the US's offer of peace years ago. Then at least, they might have bargained for some better technology.</p><p>“Who is this?” Genya’s voice, sounding skeptical. Nikolai let loose a breath, his fist clutching a stolen jacket around his body. He leaned against the cool glass of the phone booth.</p><p>“Sobachka,” he mumbled, using his code name. If the Secretary was still investigating their operations, their phone calls would be watched. He heard a beep come through as Genya switched to a secure line.</p><p>“Go,” she said.</p><p>“The Starless- it’s real, everything about that saintforsaken cult. We need to track them, start with looking into any agents that may have disappeared, dead or presumed dead."</p><p>His head was spinning and he shut his eyes tight, needing to get all the information out, needing not to pass out then and there.</p><p>"The Brum Brothers. Start there, then I need you and David to-"</p><p>"Nikolai we can't," Genya had never sounded so defeated and Nikolai stiffened. What fresh hell the Saints have in store for him now? "The Triumvirate has been shut down."</p><p>He didn't respond for a moment. Maybe he should have stolen a drink from the man who's jacket he was wearing. A drink sounded good right about then. He pressed the phone closer to his cheek again, drowning out the pain. "you don't know where I am. you haven't spoken to me, this conversation never happened."</p><p>“You’re going after them alone?”</p><p><em> I’m not alone </em>, he thought, but the memory of the blue-eyed woman was already fading.</p><p>“I have to.”</p><p>Genya had always been the most reasonable among them, but at that moment Nikolai almost wished she would tell him to come home. </p><p>"Good luck." is all she said. Then a beep echoes through the speaker, and Nikolai knows he's on his own.</p><p>Silky voices and slate gray eyes floated just out of reach of his thoughts. Whatever this cult was, whatever intentions they might have, Nikolai was going to find them.</p><p>
  <em> And then, I’m going to get a very strong drink. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kudos and comments feed me &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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